Fading Light
by silveran
Summary: WA1 The Metal Demons are finally defeated, but at what cost? An alternate take on the ending...


**Fading Light**

We've finally won. The last of the Metal Demons has been defeated.

But the cost of victory is too high.

I had spoken to the doctor, not that quack who currently runs the hospital—dear Guardians help those people—for he would have lost his head before I let him lay a hand on you, and the news was difficult to accept.

That you are dying.

I stood rooted to the spot, numbed, not listening to the doctor's vain attempts to comfort me as three words kept on repeating in my mind:

She is dying.

I remember the battle that gave you your mortal wound and how I was helpless to stop the Metal Demon that had inflicted it.

He had lunged at you so suddenly that it caught all of us by surprise. Even after he had carved that gaping wound, you were the one who defeated him and brought us back safely to Filgaia.

Your strength and determination saved us all.

Even if it was to cost you your life.

Guilt washed over me then, like a bucket of cold water, awakening me from my stupor.

How could I let it happen? I promised myself that I would protect you, but I failed to keep that promise. Now you are dying because of my incompetence as a protector.

I don't know how long I stood there. I don't even remember the doctor taking his leave as I continued to brood. Only at the sound of a creaking door did I arouse from my thoughts of guilt and self-pity.

I look up to see my friends emerge from the room, their faces drawn with grief, and I could not help but wonder what had transpired in the room. Have they said their final farewells already? Are they ready to accept her imminent death?

Am _I _ready to accept it?

No, I'm not. How can I when there are so many things left undone, unsaid between us? How can I just leave things the way they are now?

Damn it! It's not supposed to be this way!

I clench my fists in anguish, in anger, not only at myself, but at the Metal Demons, at the Guardians, at the world. But try as I might, there is no denying the inevitable. Blinded by my rage, I didn't see my friend reach out a hand and place it on my shoulder, squeezing it gently in a sign of comfort and sympathy.

"Go to her," he whispers in my ear. "She's asking for you."

I relax then, my anger dissipating as I unclench my fists, my shoulders sagging as if I carried a great burden. I look at him, then at his little companion standing on his shoulder, who was using his tail as a kerchief, squeaking as he sniffled. I would have found it comical if it was happier times, but I understand the pain he feels.

The pain we all feel.

I nod, my heart heavy with the weight of guilt and grief as I walk towards the door. Before I cross the threshold though, I look back once more at my companions. The wind sprite continued to sniffle, but the other smiled his support. That gave me the courage to face what lied behind the door as I finally entered.

Despite the cheerfulness that the sun brought into the room, it felt cold and unmoving, much like you lying on the bed. I can sense the shadow of Ge Ramtos, the Guardian of Death, hover over your form, waiting to take yet another life from this world.

The world you helped saved.

I approach your bedside with leaden footsteps, my heart wrenching as I see you there, motionless, almost as still as a—

I force myself not to think of what's to come, only to concentrate on the present. The others had said their farewells. I must say my goodbyes too, and say the things in my heart. Perhaps they will provide you some sort of solace when you finally depart this life.

Does this mean that I have accepted what's to be?

Perhaps.

But I can not imagine what life would be like when your last breath will finally escape you as I gaze down upon your pale countenance.

You are in pain, your breath short and uneven, your eyes shut, your brow glistening with sweat. As I move to wipe your brow, your eyes suddenly open. I pause as I stare at them, never realizing how beautiful they are.

How beautiful _you_ are.

I vaguely remember your eyes sparkling during our travels. You were so full of life despite the fact that you carried a large weight upon your shoulders. You always smiled even when deep down, you were suffering.

But now, as you focus on me, that fire I admire had begun to wane, like the fading light of a candle, ready to be put out.

You are dying.

I kneel down by your bedside and gently clasp your hand between my own.

You seem surprise at my action and rightly so for I have never shown any courtesy to you during our journey. When we first met, I thought of you only as a spoiled, naïve, little girl who knew nothing of the harsh life in the wastelands of Filgaia.

You proved otherwise.

You are a responsible young woman who loves her people, who loves Filgaia, who loves her friends so much that you are willing to give up your own life so that they may live. I never imagined that your love would go this far...

Even to me who has shown nothing but resentment towards you.

"I'm sorry."

I'm sorry for a lot of things: for the things I've said, for the way I've treated you, for not being able to protect you...

I'm sorry for being the cold bastard that I am.

You smile faintly as you slightly squeeze my hand, your eyes twinkling just like they did during our journey, if only just for a brief moment before pain clouded them once more.

But in that one moment, I understand that you forgive me.

With your remaining strength, you hold my hand over your heart. I can feel it beating slowly, your life ebbing away...

Suddenly, a warm glow envelops my hand.

What is this light? It seems to glow as bright as...

No! It can't be! Are you giving this to me? Are you giving me the...Teardrop?

"Prin—"

I catch myself. I remember that you hate that name, that label. It always reminded you of your position, a title you loathed because of the loneliness and insecurity it brought.

"Cecilia..."

I've called you by your name only once during our trip into the wilderness: in that dank castle up north. It was when I was asking for your support in the upcoming duel with a Metal Demon. But after, I reverted back to my teasing, never realizing how much I was hurting you.

You smile at me and again I see your old self, that young woman that I had traveled with to save Filgaia, that I had caused too much grief because of my mission. My vision was beginning to blur with my tears as I clasp your hand tightly, willing you to hold on a bit longer, willing you to live. I've already lost someone dear to me; I don't want to lose you too, for the pain will be hard for me to bear. It's enough already to see you in pain.

You struggle to speak and I lean forward to catch your words. "Promise me...you'll protect..." You pause as you struggle for breath. I can feel you slipping away, your death forthcoming, and I squeeze your hand as if to give you strength. You speak again, your voice barely above a whisper:

"Promise me you'll protect...this world...protect Filgaia..."

"Not without you!" I blurt out in desperation, the tears now flowing. In my grief, I did not realize that I had just voiced what was truly in my heart:

That to lose you was to lose myself again to the darkness that had plagued me since Arctica's fall. The pain, the doubt, the anger... I don't want to suffer through that experience again.

You stare at me in wonder perhaps because you've never seen me shed tears before even after her 'death'. It's because we've been through so much together that I would give anything to see your eyes twinkle as you smile, to see you walking amongst the trees, to see you enjoy what you have struggled to make a reality:

A peaceful world where everyone could live.

You raise your hand in an attempt to wipe away the tears, but fail as your strength finally gives way. I quickly catch your hand and hold it against my cheek, your touch soft beneath my skin. The gesture alone is enough to convey how I truly feel about you.

You smile a broken smile. "I never knew..." you whisper as your eyes flutter close, your hand slowly slipping from my grasp.

"Cecilia, no!"

I don't want you to go, but I know deep down in my heart that it was time to let go. I clutch your hand tightly as you whisper words of gratitude upon your last breath in a final attempt to comfort me:

"Thank you, Jack...for everything..."

And with that, your light went out, leaving me in darkness once more.

_I never really wanted you to see  
__The screwed up side of me that I keep  
__Locked inside of me so deep  
__It always seems to get to me  
__I never really wanted you to go  
__So many things you should have known  
__I guess for me there's just no hope  
__I never meant to be so cold  
__—Cold_, Crossfade


End file.
